The hallways all looked alike, and sometimes it felt like I was running too fast and at other times, like I hadn't moved an inch.

I could still hear their voices behind me, closing in. They weren't running. I would have been able to tell. Or maybe not, because my senses weren't working anymore.

The only thing I was sure of was that the drink was drugged, and every single person in that room knew even before I took a sip.

But what I couldn't fathom was why. What could I have done to them for them to treat me like this?

"Lily!"

That was Zane's voice, trying to goad me out. There was no need as I whimpered with every step I took, leading them straight to me. I tried to hold it in, but it seemed to find its way out like a broken music box.

I found the stairs and climbed them, even though I had no idea where it was going to lead. My legs wobbled at intervals, but I pulled myself up always, knowing it was either run or let Zane's friends have their way with me tonight.

Rage and fatigue coursed through me. My wedding played in my head like a flashback. Zane coming in late. Sophie sauntering in after him. The look they exchanged. The smug look on their faces. His sudden change in attitude a year ago.

Had it all been leading to this?

Finally reaching the landing of the staircase, I moved to the first door and knocked. Everything still swirled in front of me, and I could barely keep my head up. I wanted to go to bed so badly, but at the same time, I was so scared that it made me constantly look over my shoulder.

Just as I moved on to the next door, the first one clicked open, and someone pushed his head out. I couldn't see his face. Just a lot of finger tousled hair and a single chain dangling from his naked chest.

"Please," I whispered when his eyes fell on me. I didn't think he understood what I was asking for, but he stepped aside surprisingly. I could hear approaching footsteps on the stairs, so I dashed into the room, hoping that this was enough to keep me safe.

He closed the door behind him and turned around to face me. "What is going on?"

My limbs couldn't keep me up any longer. Darkness was approaching. I staggered on my feet as it slipped off the floor, gravity giving up on me. But I didn't land on the ground like I expected.

The smell of earth and cedar teased my nostrils as firm hands wrapped themselves around me. He lifted me like I weighed nothing and dropped me gingerly on the bed, while a knock echoed around the walls.

"Stay here," he whispered, then strode over to the door. I opened my eyes a fraction, enough to see his fingers comb through his hair. He looked restless. I wondered why.

"Open up, man! Did you see anyone run past here?" The eerily familiar voice came from the other end of the door. The stranger who had just saved me pulled it open a crack.

"No!" His tone was sharp, leaving no room for an argument.

"You sure?"

A silence followed, and I moved slightly on the bed.

"Get lost," the stranger snapped. I heard the door slam shut. I sat up and leaned against the bedframe, my body trembling.

"Thank you," I whispered when he walked back into the room. I tried so hard to focus on his features, but the only thing I could see was his hair.

"What the hell did they do to you?" he questioned.

"I...I don't know. The drink...It was drugged, and I had..."

"Figures," he blurted under his breath. "They looked like bastards."

He moved closer, and his features came into view. It was blurry, but at least I could see him. He crouched so we were eye level. His eyes looked...wrong. Glazed. Dark. His hand gripped the edge of the bedframe like he needed it to stay upright.

"You can go now," he muttered. "They should be far gone by now."

I shook my head. "Please, don't let me leave," I whispered, my voice trembling. "They will find me. I don't think I will be able to make it. I can't...."

"You can't what?"

The stranger had suddenly gotten closer, his hands trembling as they grazed my cheek. Our breaths mixed in the air, shallow and raging. I didn't push away from him, even though I knew there was something wrong.

"I'll get you a glass of water," he whispered, moving away from me again.

I was conscious of every inch of him as his feet padded across the room, returning a moment later. He slid the glass onto the nightstand and helped me up, his firm hand sliding under my back.

A shiver ran through my spine, delicious and cold. I pulled away from him then, muttering an incoherent apology as he paused.

But he said nothing, dropping to the ground beside the bed. I reached for the glass, gulping down everything. I should have learned by now not to accept things from strangers. If my husband could drug me, what more could a stranger do?

Yet, for some weird reason, I trusted him as much as I trusted myself.

"Thank you." I wiped my mouth with the back of my palm, feeling much better already.

His head moved in a nod, and silence fell over us again. At the other side of the door, I could still hear them moving.

"Aren't you going to ask me what happened?" I found myself whispering after a long minute of an oddly comfortable silence. He shifted slightly on the ground, angling his head in my direction. He didn't bother to turn on the lights.

"It's none of my business." He didn't say it in a foul manner. His tone dripped with sincerity and something else.

Something much more delicate that made me want to spill my darkest secrets.

"That was my husband," I said either way. "And my cousin. I think..."

"Shh!" He suddenly whispered, placing a long, slender finger on his lips.

And that was when I heard it.

The knock hit the door so hard the walls shuddered.

I flinched and pressed myself deeper into the stranger's room, my legs turning to liquid again. The stranger's head snapped toward the door, jaw tightening.

"Bathroom," he said under his breath. "Now."

I didn't argue. My feet barely obeyed me as I stumbled toward the small bathroom tucked to the right. He opened the door, ushered me inside, and whispered, "Don't make a sound." Then he closed it, but not all the way, just enough for me to hear everything.

The next round of pounding shook the door.

"OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!" Zane's voice roared, so loud it vibrated through the tiled walls.

I slapped a hand over my mouth.

The stranger's voice came next, quiet, controlled, and dangerously even.

"Stop hitting my door."

"Don't play games," Zane spat. "A woman ran in here. MY woman."

Through the slit of light, I saw the shadow of the stranger shift.

"No one came in here."

"Bullshit!"

A fist slammed against the door so hard I felt it in my bones.

"You think I didn't see her? She ran this way," Zane snarled. "Open it, or I'll kick it down."

The stranger didn't respond right away. The pause was thick, suffocating, coated with tension so dense I could taste it.

Then, in a low growl, he spoke, "last warning. Get away from my door."

Zane laughed, but there was no humor in it, just arrogance and rage.

"Oh, I get it," he taunted. "You want a turn too? Is that what this is? Think you can play the hero and taste what's mine?"

My stomach twisted. My fingers dug into my palms. The fact that this twisted thinking was all Zane had of me made my heart sink to the pit of my stomach. It had me asking if he even loved me to begin with.

The stranger's reply came slow, clipped.

"She's not yours."

"Excuse me?" Zane barked.

"You heard me."

A charged silence followed, too long, too dangerous.

Then, a crash.

Not the door breaking, thank God, a body hitting it.

I heard a grunt, Zane's.

Then a scrape, followed by a scuffle and the thud of a shoulder slamming into a wall. A curse. A hiss of air. The sound of someone being pushed hard.

"GET. OUT."

The stranger's voice had changed. No calm. No restraint. Just pure threat.

"You don't know who the hell you're messing with!" Zane started, voice strained.

"I don't care who you are," the stranger bit out. "Touch this door again and I'll break you."

A sharp shuffle, like Zane being dragged.

"Take your friends and get out of this hall," the stranger snapped. "If you come back..."

"You'll what?" Zane spat back, though he sounded less sure now. "You'll regret crossing me."

"Not as much as you'll regret coming back," the stranger answered.

Another impact, a body shoved against the hallway wall.

Then silence.

I didn't breathe until the quiet stretched painfully long.

Soon, the bathroom door creaked.

I'd been leaning on it, and without warning, it swung open.

I stumbled forward with a small cry, but didn't hit the floor. Strong hands caught my waist, lifting me just enough that my feet found ground again. My palms flattened against a warm, bare chest.

I gasped and looked up.

His eyes were right there-dark, intense, still burning from whatever had just happened outside. They locked onto mine like they had been waiting for me to look.

For a full heartbeat, neither of us breathed.

"You okay?" he murmured, voice roughened from the confrontation.

I swallowed. "I-I heard everything."

His hands were still on my waist. He didn't pull away. He didn't move at all.

"You dragged him out," I whispered. "You... fought him."

"Had to," he murmured. "He wasn not leaving."

His voice vibrated through me. I felt dizzy again-but not from the drug this time.

"You did not have to protect me," I said softly.

He exhaled through his nose, a shaky sound. "I did."

I wasn't sure who moved first.

Maybe we moved at the same time.

But suddenly, my fingers were in his hair, and his forehead brushed mine, and the space between us, thin and fragile, snapped like a thread.

Our lips met.

The kiss was not soft.

It was desperate, breathless, like everything I'd been holding in; the fear, the shock, the betrayal poured straight into him, and everything he had held back came crashing into me.

His hand slid up my back, pulling me closer. My fingers tightened at the nape of his neck, needing the contact, needing him real.

He kissed me like he could not stop.

I kissed him like I did not want to.

He pressed me back gently, guiding me away from the bathroom doorway until my knees hit the edge of the bed. I fell onto it with a soft gasp, and he followed, bracing himself on his arms so he wouldn't crush me.

"Fuck," he whispered against my lips. Like every restraint he'd been holding in came crashing.

My breath trembled.

"Do you..." My voice wavered, but I made myself ask. "Do you have a condom?"

His eyes darkened with a flicker of surprise, then understanding.

He nodded once.

My heart hammered.

"Okay," I whispered, my voice barely holding.

He leaned in again, kissing me with a heat that stole my breath, one hand cupping my jaw, the other sliding to the small of my back to pull me closer.

The kiss deepened, slow then urgent, his breath mingling with mine as the room blurred, everything narrowing to the warmth of his mouth and the safety of his body over mine.

His hand trailed down my back and a shiver slipped through my lips. I whimpered against his lips and he swallowed every sound that came from my lips fervently.

He pulled away to get rid of his clothes, retrieving a condom from the bedside drawer.

Fuck, this was really happening.

I woke up to unfamiliar sheets and a ceiling I didn't recognize.

For one disoriented second, I didn't breathe. My body felt heavy, drained, but my mind jumped awake all at once, pulling memories back in a rush.

The knocking, the bathroom, Zane's voice, the stranger, his hands steadying me, the kiss, the sex.

I bolted upright so fast the room spun. A faint ache pulsed behind my eyes, but the drug's fog had nearly lifted.

The bed beside me was empty.

The apartment was quiet.

I stood on shaky legs, gathering the stranger's discarded shirt from the floor and slipping into it. It hung low on my thighs, swallowing me whole, but I didn't have time to care.

I had to go.

I had to get home before Zane twisted everything, before he convinced himself he had reason to hurt me further.

I didn't know what waited for me, but I knew something had broken between us the moment he'd drugged me. No amount of pretending would glue that back together.

I found the stranger's door unlocked. The hallway outside was clear, stripped of last night's chaos. My breath hitched.

I stepped out into the morning air, cold enough to sting my skin through the thin fabric. Somehow, I made my way back to the street, flagged a taxi with trembling fingers, and kept my gaze fixed outside the window the whole drive back.

My heart pounded harder the closer we got to the house.

Zane's house. Ours. Mine?

I didn't know anymore.

The driveway was full. Sophie's car was parked where mine used to be. Zane's was crookedly pulled up like he'd rushed inside.

Something twisted violently in my stomach.

I paid the driver quickly and stumbled up the steps, pushing the door open without knocking.

The scene inside punched the air out of me.

Sophie sat on the couch wearing Zane's T-shirt, one of his favorites, one he'd forbid me to borrow because "I didn't fill it out right." Her hair was in a lazy bun, eyes bright, skin glowing like she had slept in peace.

Zane stood behind her, massaging her shoulders.

She leaned back into him with a smile I'd never seen her give me.

His hands paused only when he saw me.

"Oh," Sophie drawled, her grin widening. "Look who finally decided to come home."

My legs nearly gave out.

"S-Sophie?" My voice sounded scraped and small. "What are you wearing?"

"My shirt," Zane answered coolly, not even blinking. "She was cold."

Cold. But I slept alone in a stranger's shirt after running for my life.

I swallowed hard. "Where were you last night?"

Sophie's laugh snapped through the room, sharp as glass. "Shouldn't we be asking you that, Cuz? You disappeared."

Zane stepped around the couch and crossed his arms, looking me over with a calculating stare that made my skin crawl. "Where were you, Lily?"

"You know what happened," I whispered. "You drugged me. You took me to that room with your friends-"

"Oh, stop," Sophie cut in, rolling her eyes so dramatically it bordered on grotesque. "Always playing the victim. It's exhausting."

"I'm not-" My throat closed. "I'm telling you what you did."

"What we did," Zane corrected, stepping closer. "And from where I'm standing, it looks like you ran off with someone."

My stomach lurched. "I didn't..."

"Then where were you all night?" Sophie shot back. "Where were you when your husband was searching for you everywhere?"

"Searching?" I choked. "Is THAT what you call it?"

Zane shrugged. "You know how uncontrollable my friends get. I tried to calm them down."

"You OFFERED me to them," I snapped, voice cracking.

His expression didn't shift. Not even a flicker. "You sound hysterical."

My chest tightened. "I heard you."

"You heard wrong," he said smoothly.

"No," I whispered. "No, I didn't."

Sophie smirked. "Can we get to the point? I have a nail appointment in about an hour."

"The point?" I repeated, breath catching.

Zane sighed, as though I was the inconvenience.

"We're getting a divorce, Lily."

My ears rang. "What?"

"A divorce," he repeated coldly. "You're not the woman I thought you were. You humiliated me last night."

"YOU DRUGGED ME!" I screamed.

He waved a dismissive hand. "You're unstable. And dangerous to my reputation."

My vision blurred, tears burning hot.

"You can't be serious," I whispered. "We got married yesterday."

"And it was the biggest mistake of my life," he said without hesitation.

My heart tore cleanly in two.

Sophie stood, stretched like she'd just woken from a pleasant dream, and walked to the dining table. She picked up a stack of papers and flicked through them casually.

"Oh, Zane," she said lightly, "don't forget to tell her about the inheritance."

My blood chilled.

"What inheritance?"

Zane exchanged a glance with her, a knowing, smug, cruel little glance.

The kind you give someone you've been planning something with for a very long time.

"You didn't read the documents after your parents died, did you?" he asked.

I froze. "What documents?"

Sophie cleared her throat dramatically. "The ones that state your dear parents left everything to you-conditionally."

"Conditionally?" My voice shook violently.

"Yes," she purred. "You had to be married before twenty-five to access it."

My breath caught.

"And look at that," Zane said, picking up the divorce papers. "You married me just in time."

My knees buckled. "No... no, no, please-"

Sophie stepped closer, smiling like she was presenting a gift.

"Since we're your only living family and you're clearly... unwell... the lawyers agreed you're not in a state to handle the estate responsibly."

Zane slid the papers onto the coffee table.

"So it's been transferred to us."

My heart stopped.

"What?" I whispered.

"All of it," Sophie said, delighted. "The properties. The investments. The trust. Everything your parents left behind."

"That's not... That's not legal," I breathed.

Zane shrugged. "It is now. You forfeited your right when you abandoned your wedding reception and ran off with another man."

"I... I didn't!" My throat closed.

"It doesn't matter," Sophie chirped, tapping the papers. "All you need to do is sign these. The divorce. The release."

"And then," Zane added coldly, "you don't come back."

I stared at the two people I had trusted, my husband and my only family, and felt something inside me crack so violently I thought I heard it.

"I have nowhere else to go," I whispered.

"Not our problem," Sophie said with a bright smile.

Zane crossed his arms. "Sign the papers, Lily."

"And leave," Sophie added. "For good."

The room spun. My voice shook as I whispered, "Why are you doing this?"

Sophie tilted her head sweetly. "Because, Cuz... you were born lucky. And you never deserved it."

Zane tossed a pen at my feet.

"Sign," he repeated.

I stared at the papers, the end of everything, and felt my legs give way as I sank to the couch.

My hands trembled. My vision blurred.

But I didn't sign.

Instead, in a voice that didn't even sound like mine, I whispered.

"What if I say no?"

They both laughed with the confidence of people who believed they had already won.

"We're not asking," Zane said.

"We're telling you," Sophie added.

"You. Are. Leaving."